


Worn Thin

by kitana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-19
Updated: 2009-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:17:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitana/pseuds/kitana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Dean wonders if Sam is smarter than the average fourteen year old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worn Thin

**Author's Note:**

> Sam is 14 and Dean is 18.

Sometimes, Dean wonders if Sam is smarter than the average fourteen year old, or if he's just that easy to read. Sam always waits for it, until John is gone on a week-long hunt tracking down some kind of hellish ghoul, before he makes his move. At first, Dean had been blindsided by Sam's advances, but the routine is old hat now; even if he can't pin exactly _when_ , Dean knows it's coming. He's not sure how many more times he'll be able to successfully turn Sam down.

It's nine o'clock, and the local evening news is on. Dean's not interested much in the day-to-day proceedings of lives he won't ever lead, but sometimes the things John does, the people he saves – they end up on TV. So Dean just watches for that. He can hear Sam coming around the corner of the couch, and the couch dips under Sam's weight.

“Bed, Sammy,” Dean says, trying his best to stay nonchalant and focused on the television.

“Not sleepy,” Sam replies plainly. “Can't sleep.”

Dean cuts his eyes over to look at Sam, trying for an authoritative glance, but he just gets an eyeful of slim, smooth chest and worn, blue-and-white striped pajama pants. Sam's nearly Dean's height already, but he hasn't got an ounce of solid bulk to go behind it; that observation should make Dean recoil, make him remember that it's his brother – his baby brother – giving him sultry eyes, but disgust doesn't come and all other reasoning falls flat when Sam flashes him a grin for all his trouble.

Sam slides over into Dean's lap, twining his arms around Dean's neck. Like this, Dean is looking up at Sam, staring straight up at Sam's eyes – half-hidden by long hair – and those pink, parted lips licked wet and shiny. Sam's tongue darts out, making his lips wetter, and Goddamnit, doesn't Sam know he's walking on thin ice here?

Dean isn't sure which of them moves first, whether he moves up or Sam moves down, but they're kissing now, and Sam's lips are so sinfully soft that Dean can't tamp down on the groan that comes bubbling up. Dean reaches up and threads his fingers into Sam's hair, keeping him still as he scrapes his teeth across Sam's lower lip before sucking it into his mouth.

Sam makes a noise, somewhere between a moan and a whine, and pushes his tongue into Dean's mouth eagerly, shuddering when Dean's fingers tighten in his hair. Dean can feel Sam's cock, hard and thick already, pressing into his belly, and the sudden thought of Sam getting hard from this, from just his kisses, sends a thrill straight through Dean.

Sam sucks on Dean's tongue, like he's displaying what he'd do if it were Dean's cock in his mouth, and Dean groans and breaks away, has to get some air before he drowns completely in Sam. Dean opens his eyes, doesn't know when he closed them, but Sam is flushed half-way down his body, his chest is heaving, and Sam's got this _look_ , like he's already been fucked through the couch.

Right then, Dean realizes he's doomed.


End file.
